The Willow
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: HPDM Harry, 25, tired, and unhappy is being visited for the past four nights by some "Arthur Kirkland". Arthur is seemingly trying to help Harry find his lost love. Harry and Draco both dream of the same Willow Tree. two-shot
1. Chapter 1

_Somewhere, far far away, there is a planet. On that planet is a single willow tree. _

"Harry, are you happy with her?" The blonde man asked, leaning forward, his arms were locked around the cup of coffee, "You're 25 years old, I've seen you kiss her."

"Arthur, I'm…" Harry paused, "If I leave her, what will I have?" He looked towards the bedroom he shared with Ginny Weasley. He never really did anything with her, his job drained him so. It was midnight, and this man, who called himself Arthur Kirkland, came out of bloody nowhere and started beating down upon his love life?

"Happiness?" Arthur asked, and Harry considered. This would be the fourth night in a row that Arthur came to talk to him.

"Why are you even here?" Harry grew angry and stood to pour more coffee. The bags under his eyes were tired and worn, he noticed as he brought a finger to his face. His hand travelled upwards and rested on the scar. Tracing it gently he sighed. "Why are you so concerned?"

Arthur, emerald eyes glistening, sat back. He was taken by thought. "You saved… England," he stated, almost saying another word instead of "England", Harry noted by said nothing of it. "It's only right for you to be happy."

Harry looked out at the window, turning his gaze to the bright moon, and wincing. He remembered Lupin, and in turn thought of Teddy. Teddy was fast asleep upstairs, in his own room. "Harry," Arthur said and continued when the man grunted, "You're not the only one looking up at those stars in longing."

Harry turned to speak, but found no one there, the cup was rinsed and a key was sitting on Arthur's spot. He gave one look towards the door and scribbled down a note. 'Have work, will be back soon' he stopped, wondering if he should write 'Love,' and instead he wrote his name.

The key was regular metal, shimmering in the star light, and had the address imprinted on it. Funny, it wasn't too far. He held the key close and apparated. He found himself in a regular looking street, in front of a regular looking house, with a regular looking car parked out front.

"Harry?" someone called from behind. Jumping slightly, the called man turned and found Arthur with his hands dug into his pockets. "Go in."

But Harry did not move. "Why do I trust you?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered honestly. "I guess you just do."

Harry still refused to move. His feet were cemented and anger grew on his face. "Why don't you want me with Ginny?" he nearly shouted.

"It's not me who doesn't want you with her. It's your choice. You went with it."

"Just because you've been pestering me for four nights!"

"Really, now?" Arthur moved forward. "Wasn't it you who muttered 'come back' when I left the first night? You didn't even sleep with Ginny that night."

"Shut it." Harry hissed, growing annoyed. "I have to raise Teddy, and I mean to do it right. He needs a motherly figure."

Arthur walked over and held out a hand. Harry shoved the key in and stepped back. "A child with divorced parents, or parents who always argue, is no better than one raised by a single parent or even orphanage." He looked over the key and began walking away.

Harry grimaced and looked at the house longingly. He knew very well who was inside. "Wait." He reached for Arthur.

"Yes?" Arthur paused, a faint smile hid beneath the grim face.

"Do you think that… It would be better?"

"Better for you to be happy?"

"That… Yeah."

"Not my choice. I'm just opening the door, you walk through them." When the silence grew into the night, reaching just short of Jupiter, Arthur began to walk away.

"Wait!" Harry said again, stepping forward, looking upset.

"Yes?"

"Will things be better if I choose this path?"

"Don't give me a headache. You know very well what happens if I tell you what will happen."

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

Another silence. Arthur cast his eyes down, looking pained. "Please, sir," Harry whispered, "can you answer me this?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what will happen?"

"I know everything that is, will be, could be, has been… Everything about England. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes." Harry sighed and stood taller, running his hand through his raven hair and looking at the moon. For a moment, the thought he spotted someone in the window. A second look and it was gone. What was this in his heart? Hope? Whatever it was, it had fluttered away.

The next day, while Teddy read through some books, Ginny walked up behind Harry sitting at the table. He flinched at her gentle touch. "You've been gone, Harry," she said in what seemed to be a provocative voice.

"Yeah, I'm busy." He answered flatly.

"Too busy for me? Your girlfriend?" Ginny added, moving her hands down Harry's chest. Harry pulled away and stood.

"I'm busy, leave me alone." He left to his study.

His study had several books lying around, unorganized as ever. He sat in his chair, looking at his quill. "Arthur, if you know everything, please come now…" he looked around.

A polite knock on the door.

Harry nearly jumped out of his socks in elation. His joy, twittering gaily above his head dropped like a rock when he actually opened the door. Ginny was holding a cup of tea. "Thought you'd like some," she offered sweetly. He refused and shook his head. "O, and there's someone at the door."

"Tell him to come in here." Harry said and walked back to his desk. He didn't understand what it was about Ginny. She was sweet, beautiful, and everything a man could hope for. So what was missing?

"Maybe it's you. Maybe she lacks a history with you." Arthur's voice came from the doorway. He smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Got here as fast as I could. Didn't think you missed me so much, so I could say I was a bit startled."

"Sit down," Harry said, gesturing to an empty chair. Arthur nodded and seated himself looking at Harry evenly with eyes that looked too old for his face. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Don't act stupid. Why are your eyes so old? On a face so young?"

"Same goes for you. Experience, life, love, it all tears you down." Arthur added looking out the window with the same agonized face. Moments ticked by until Harry spoke up.

"I don't love her. That's what was missing. She is a perfect, wonderful girl, Ginny. I just, I don't. I don't love her." Harry said, regarding Arthur for something, anything. A wink, a smile, anything but the dead silence Arthur was treating him with.

"What does that mean?" another voice, Ginny's, came from the doorway. Her freckled face had tears trailing down them.

Harry stood, knocking his chair back. "N-no, Ginny, I…" He turned to Arthur.

"Didn't you hear it? He said he doesn't love you. Do you want me to spell it out for you?" Arthur's voice was cold, absolute zero, and Ginny nodded. Harry paused between them, looking at Arthur who glared back.

Ginny looked at them both. Then, she smiled. She laughed, a delightful sound, "Harry, I know. I knew all along. I was waiting. I've been seeing someone, anyway." She held her hands behind her back. Harry felt a sudden urge to vomit and scream. "Hermione and I have been discussing things. We know, we've always known. It's always been you who didn't know."

Harry walked over, he looked ready to hit her, but he hugged her instead. "O, god… Why didn't you tell me?"

Arthur walked closer, his gloved hands holding s piece of cloth. "They didn't say, because it wasn't time. Time is everything," he added curiously. "Here."

Harry didn't see Arthur after that for a long, long time.

With the cloth and key in his hand, he turned to run. The address wasn't too far, and he needed his nerves calmed by the time he reached the house.

He stopped, unsure with himself, and swallowed. It all ends here.

He knocked on the door, and waited.

Draco Malfoy stepped back. He was different from what Harry remembered. He seemed frayed, his hair had lost its moxie, his eyes their snark, and his voice the cruelty. Worn by time and destroyed by his choices. "Hello, Harry."

_Continue? Yes? No? Maybe?_


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, hello Draco" Harry said, losing some of his excitement. He didn't really expect Draco to be in such a dismal mood. "So, I—"

"Did he bring you here?" Draco asked, looking across the street, which was doused by a weak orange glow. He opened wide the door, inviting Harry in.

"If by he you mean the bushy-eyebrow guy, then yes." Harry studied the home, regular, almost muggle, nice. He looked around for a wife, or a girlfriend. "Anyone living with you?"

"Just me, myself, and I." Draco replied, cleaning up his expression a little, laughing at the eyebrow comment. "What about you?"

"Oh you know, Teddy and

(that bitch)

Ginny." Harry replied, smiling regardless of his feelings towards Ginny. He placed gentle fingers on his wand, mindlessly protecting it. Draco nodded.

"Want some tea?" he asked, walking towards his kitchen.

"I'd love some." Harry pulled up a chair and sat in it. "So, um, why exactly is that Arthur fellow doing?"

"I really don't know. He came several times, talking to me. I hardly know why." Draco poured the tea, smelling nicely of strawberries.

"I'd be more concerned in looking for a razor. Anyway, he sounds clear British, no way his foreign. I don't think I've heard a more British accent in my life." Harry sipped his tea.

Why do I trust him?

Draco did the same, looking into his cup.

How can we talk so freely?

Harry looked at Draco, eyes meeting.

Why…?

Draco voiced this question, "Why are we so comfortable suddenly?"

"Maybe after I saved you, maybe we grew up. Maybe you're using me. Maybe there's a charm on us. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It's all maybes." Harry scoffed bitterly, looking at Draco.

He waited for that sneer, that rude remark, that snarky bit of Draco. Nothing. Totally, completely, changed was he. It was scary, almost, to think of it. How could a person change so much?  
People can change… Yes…

"Well, I better be off." Harry stood and placed his cup in the sink, rinsing it and setting it back on the old wooden shelf. "Don't want to waste too much of your time." He added, looking at Draco with a form of… What was it? Ah, yes. Anticipation. He wanted, funnily enough, for Draco to ask him to stay. No—beg him to stay.

"Alright," Draco stood, and the thick cloud between them returned. It was stickier and murkier than ever. Yet, there was no hatred. Only a reflex to being near each other. Try being near an enemy you've had your whole life and make tea-conversation. It's quite difficult, mind you. "I won't keep you much longer."

Harry nodded, feeling his hands go numb somewhat. He was frozen, as if some mad man had glued his feet to the ground. His knees refused to bend, Harry was spellbound. He couldn't just leave, they were getting somewhere…

Getting where?

Harry nodded and left.

Many more times did Harry and Draco meet, months passed with the same routine, sipping tea and chatting. During mid-summer, one night, Draco greeted him differently.

"I have something to show you." He smiled to Harry, who smiled back. They left up a creaky, old, rank stairway that led on to an attic. Dusted coated most of the old, unused things. Harry spotted some old Hogwarts relics, such as a robe and a broom. Draco continued towards a window, which let in moon light. In front of it, possibly the only dust-free spot in the room, was a telescope. Harry looked at it, asking permission to use it without words. "Go ahead." Draco nodded.

Gleeful as a schoolboy, Harry peered in, looking at Venus, the stars, the moon, everything that dotted the sky.

"Sometimes I dream of a willow, maybe it's on a planet far away, because I can't seem to find it on earth." Harry mumbled, moving the elderly object slowly.

"I planted a willow in my back yard, several years ago." Draco said and Harry looked down. Indeed, there was a half-grown willow. It was surrounded by flowers and mushrooms. "I dreamed of a same dream. I used to think I was the only one on that planet."

"Used to?" Harry looked at him, curiosity playing a game of tag in his mind.

"Yes, now… Now there's someone else." Draco replied.

And for some stupid reason, Harry felt his heart drop to the floor. So there was someone else.

"How are things between you and Ginny?" Draco replied slowly when Harry remained silent.

"The wedding is on Thursday." Harry said, standing straighter.

"Oh" Draco felt his own heart fall. "Well, I wish you luck." He turned around, feeling something stinging his eyes.

"With what? I'm not going." Harry snorted.

"A groom missing his own wedding?" Draco reproached dangerously.

"My own wedding? What are you talking about? She's marrying Dean."

Draco felt his heart lift back to its place. "That's good."

"What do you mean 'that's good'?" Harry started angrily. "Don't you have that… Someone to go to?"

Draco blushed, and looked out the window. "I don't know if they love me."

"They probably do." Harry caught on.

They edged closer together. Harry smiled playfully, his emerald eyes gleaming. His lips brushed against Draco's. Draco was shocked into stillness, his own eyes blinking in confusion. "H-Harry?"

He didn't have to speak. Their lips brushed together again, warm and loving in a way thought impossible not too long ago.

And somewhere, someplace, Arthur Kirkland was smiling as he sipped his tea and watched Doctor Who.

Lying under the willow, sun-tanning in the shade, Harry and Draco lay. The grass was warm with summer wind and the willow's great leaves acting as a canopy. Draco and Harry's hands were resting atop each other like old friends. Harry's glasses were resting on his chest and his eyes were closed in relaxation.

"You asleep?" Draco asked, turning over and pecking Harry's cheek.

"Mmm…" Harry replied, nearly nodded off.

Draco's chuckle stopped and Harry drew up. "It's him."

Spreading the leaves like a curtain, Harry noticed Arthur standing, with a flower in his hand.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"


End file.
